The Big Game
by Politics.and.Prose
Summary: Finn's experience during the conference championship game. Will be AU in just a few hours. Finchel. Shameless smut for the fildos.


This is written for the **fildos**, of course. And, also, it does not take into account any spoilers for SLS and beyond. I don't think.

.**xo**.

Even though he was still really _really_ mad at her, Finn couldn't help but smile when he saw Rachel wiping on the eye black and trying out her best game face. (It was pretty pathetic and not at all intimidating, but that made it all the more cute.)

Then he watched her pull on a football jersey. Jersey number 20.

The number looked familiar, but he couldn't put a face to it.

"Fuck, Rachel. Get your own damn uniform."

_Puck_.

"None of the others fit, Noah," she responded testily. "Yours was the closest I could find."

"Why not use Hummel's old jersey?" he griped as he tugged at the uniform shirt. "I'm already in the program as number 20, babe. Go get a different one. And besides, this is too big anyway."

"Noah, it's _one night_," she answered. "Just let me wear your shirt."

"That would be totally hot if it was in a different context."

Finn thought he was going to throw up.

"You're disgusting," she told him seriously, a cute little wrinkle in her nose. When Puck just stared at her, eyebrow arched, she growled lowly and whipped the jersey over her head and thrust it at him. "Happy now?"

Puck arched a brow at her nearly-bare top (what the hell was Rachel doing in just a sports bra anyway?) and responded, "You have no idea."

Finn's eyes narrowed as some of the other guys on the team turned to look at her. (Even Mike was looking and the dude was more whipped than Schue was with Ms. P.)

That was simply not going to do.

He moved (fuck it, he ran as fast as he could) to the equipment locker and grabbed the smallest jersey he could find. He rushed back into the room and thrust it at Rachel, eyes somewhat averted, and said, "Just put this on, okay? We don't need everyone all distracted by some half-naked chick in the locker room before the big game."

"Speak for yourself, Hudson!" Puck called out.

"I wouldn't be making comments right now if I were you, Puckerman," the quarterback spat testily. "Just get ready for the damn game."

"First smart thing I've heard all day, Hudson," Coach Beiste said as she walked into the room, her eyes fixed on Rachel, Tina and Mercedes. "You ready to play?"

"Born ready," Rachel responded with more confidence than she had.

Finn had a feeling this was going to be a _very_ long night.

He gets taken down hard on the first play of the second quarter.

Like, really hard.

To the point of, you know, blacking out.

When he comes to, Rachel is kneeling over him, her helmet thrown to the side, her braids full of fly aways and her eye black smudged from sweat and tears.

He never thought she was more beautiful.

"Finn!" she cried, eyes wide. "Oh, thank goodness you're okay. You're awake. This is wonderful news."

"Yeah. I'm good," he told her as he tried to sit up.

"Finn, stay down," she told him seriously, her small hand pressing into the center of his chest until he found himself lying flat on his back again. "Your injury could be serious."

"I'm fine," he answered. "Where's everyone else?" he asked immediately, wondering why, exactly, Coach Beiste and the rest of the guys weren't surrounding him, wondering desperately if their hopes of a conference championship were completely dashed due to an injury to him.

"Game's over," she told him, eyes wide. "The guys with the striped shirts wouldn't let us stop the game so we played over you. Sam did a wonderful job as quarterback while you were unfortunately unconscious." She took a breath and slowly caressed his cheek. "But he'll never be as good as you are."

He smiled, then, and reached to clasp her hand in his. "I'm really glad you stayed, Rachel. It means a lot that you care enough to make sure I didn't, you know, die or something."

"Of course I care, Finn," she told him seriously. "Even though I was completely wrong for kissing Noah, and I _know_ that, he _did_ give me some pointers on how to make someone who's hurting feel better." She fluttered her eyelashes at him prettily. "Would you like me to make you feel better?"

"I'm fine though," he said, his brow furrowed.

"Oh," she pouted prettily, her bottom lip jutting out. "I guess I should go then."

"No!" he shouted as he sat up quickly, his hand reaching out for her wrist but landing on her upper thigh. "Don't …" he swallowed thickly. "Don't go."

He didn't know why he was acting like this with her. He was _mad_ at her. She _cheated_ on him. But all he was thinking about was her in that uniform, her staying beside him when he was hurt, her telling him that he was better than Sam.

He sort of wished that she would tell him he was better than Puck too.

In more ways than one.

"Please, Rachel. Make me feel better."

She smiled at him, then, and leaned closer. "How good do you want to feel?" she asked, eyes focused on him.

"Better than I've ever felt before," he answered seriously, mouth slightly open. "Like I'll never feel that good again."

"I was hoping you'd say that," she said lowly, her voice thick, as she climbed on top of him. "I'm not usually one for fornicating in public, Finn, but something about you makes me want to show _everyone_ that I get to have you."

"We're not dating," he reminded her, simply because he thought she might have forgotten.

"I don't care," she told him seriously as her fingers moved to the ties of his uniform pants. "I just want to make you feel so good right now. It's all about you, Finn. Whatever you want. Say anything. Do anything."

He almost came in his pants. Legit.

"God, Rachel. That's so fucking hot. I didn't know you could be all …"

"Forceful?" she asked as she finished untying the laces on his pants. "Yes you did."

"Not in bed."

"I don't see a bed anywhere, Finn," she said with a little grin. She slowly slid from his waist, spreading his legs so she could kneel between them. "Guess the grass stains will be for more than one reason tonight."

"Oh my God," he whispered, eyes wide, as she adjusted to make herself more comfortable before reaching into his pants (_reaching into his pants in the middle of the football field!_) and pulling his cock out.

"Don't be too noisy, Finn," she commanded. "If someone catches us we have to stop. And then I won't be able to properly demonstrate how I have no gag reflex." She paused. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you that."

"Oh my God," he repeated.

Rachel just rolled her eyes and pressed her hand over his mouth. "Don't make me gag you."

He almost came again. Seriously, he had this huge fear that thinking of the mailman wouldn't stop him from coming if she kept acting like this. It was totally hot and totally not who he thought she would be.

He kind of wondered why, exactly, she was always such a prude when they were together and she was acting like _this_ now that they weren't.

Her hand slowly started moving up and down his shaft, a small smile on her face. "Would it be okay if I performed oral sex on you, Finn? You see, I've always wondered what it would be like to have a penis as large as yours in my mouth. Though, I must say, I'm quite concerned as to whether or not you'll fit into my tight, virgin pussy. You're so big!"

"It's okay, baby," he said as he wrapped his hand in her hair and started slowly pushing her head down. "We can worry about that when we get there."

"Of course," she told him seriously. "I mean, if I don't perform well enough when I suck your huge, amazing cock, maybe you won't even let me fuck you."

Holy. Shit.

His eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

Rachel. Berry. Said. Fuck.

Best day _ever_.

He was about to respond – to tell her any head was good head, not that he knew first hand or anything – when she sealed her lips around the tip of his cock, teased the small slit with her tongue for a fraction of a second, before _sucking_.

_Mailman. Mailman. Mailman._

"It's okay if you come in my mouth, Finn," she assured him as she lifted off slightly. "You're still young and I'm quite certain you'll be able to rebound quickly enough so that we can have proper intercourse before I have to go home and rehearse."

He tangled his fingers in her hair a little tighter and pushed her back down onto his cock. "Just keep going," he told her. "Don't stop. Just … don't stop."

She smiled around his dick before smoothing her tongue down the underside, her mouth following, sliding down, down, down …

And then he hit the back of her throat.

And she swallowed.

Twice.

She moaned, then, too, before sliding up and off, wiping delicately at the spit slipping from the edge of her lips, and asked, "Okay?"

His eyes rolled back into his head and he pressed her down again.

She grinned before repeating the action, his cock hitting the back of her throat again, her swallowing again …

And this time one of her tiny hands moved inside his pants and rolled his balls between her fingers.

Yeah. He came.

Hard.

Right down her throat.

And she swallowed and sat up, eyes wide, and licked her lips. "Wow," she whispered breathily. "That was amazing. I wish I had known how much I enjoyed doing that. I would have gone down on you long before we even started dating." She took another deep breath. "Maybe one day you'll let me do it again?"

"Baby, you can do that any time you want," he told her seriously.

"Finn?" she asked with a confused look on her face. "Finn, are you okay?"

"I'm great," he told her, a small wrinkle in his brow.

"Finn?" she asked again as she shook his shoulder. "Finn, please."

"I said I'm great," he replied as he shut his eyes. "Just give me a minute and I'll be good to go again. That was amazing."

"Hudson?"

"Not now, Coach," Finn mumbled drowsily. "Rachel just gave me, like, the best head ever."

"Finn!" he heard Rachel screech.

Oh. Shit.

He opened his eyes slowly to see Chang, Rachel, Coach Beiste, Sam and a referee standing over him, still all completely in uniform.

_Shit_.

"I …"

"Get him off the field," Beiste barked. "Evans, you're in. Hudson, let the trainers check you out."

Finn heard Mike ask Sam, "Did he just say Rachel gave him head?" as Beiste and one of the trainers helped him off the field.

* * *

"I'm fine," Finn swore after swatting at the trainer. "The helmet cushioned the hit."

"But I wanna play!" he heard Rachel call from somewhere to his left.

"Sorry, Rachel," Beiste said seriously. "But after that hit Hudson just took I can't risk any of you girls. You don't have enough experience taking these kinds of hits to not get seriously hurt. I'm sorry, but the answer is no. You can stay on the sidelines but you're participation in this game is over."

He turned his head to see Rachel stare defiantly at Coach Beiste before saying, "We'll see about that" and stomping off.

(He thought _that_ face was more intimidating than her game face.)

He watched the game a bit, taking his mandatory benching for the required ten plays (stupid Beiste and her stupid rules), and thought of strategies for when he got back on the field.

When Coach gave him the green light to take the field again, he decided to go for the fearless approach. He would stay in the pocket and let them rush him if they thought they could.

He got hit again.

Hard.

And he went down again.

Hard.

But this time he popped right up, pissed that the ball was fumbled and that they were on defense now, and jogged off the field, cursing at her tackles and generally acting like it was the end of the world.

"Go Titans!" he heard from the sidelines and a ghost of a smile crossed his face. Cheerleaders were awesome.

Just as he pulled his helmet off, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Rachel jumping up and down in a Cheerios uniform, dark hair in a high ponytail and pom poms clenched tightly in her fists.

As if the really hot mental blowie wasn't enough to distract him.

It was kinda hot, her putting aside her hate for the Cheerios to cheer him on.

_The team_, he corrected in his head. _She's cheering the team on_.

"Hudson! You're out!" Coach Beiste shouted. "Evans! The ball is yours!"

"What?" he cried indignantly. "Because of _one fumble_?"

"You're not having a great game, Hudson," the coach responded. "Sam's got a natural quickness and talent. And he's not a clumsy oaf."

"That's so not fair!" Finn yelled and threw his helmet on the ground.

"Real mature, Fidiot," Puck said as he clapped Sam, who was standing next to Finn, on the back. "Let's go win this thing, All Star," he added as the two jogged onto the field.

"This is _bullshit_!" Finn screamed and stomped away, moving to sit alone on the bench, glaring at anyone who dared to go near him.

"Finn?" he heard from over his shoulder.

"Not now, Rachel," he spat angrily. "Just … don't. I don't …"

"She was wrong for taking you out," she forged on. "You're playing very well."

"Not well enough, apparently," he hissed.

"She was wrong," Rachel stressed, her hand moving to rest on his shoulder. "And she'll see it. And you'll be back in in no time."

"It's just _bullshit_," he shouted as he stood and rounded on Rachel, eyes wide and breathing heavy. "Why the _fuck_ did he have to come in here and take everything I wanted and cared about?"

"Everything?" she asked quietly, pom poms held in front of her, eyes downcast.

"Shit," he whispered harshly. "I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay," she told him as she shook her head. "I understand."

"No," he responded as he slowly moved his hand to her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just … he got the solo at Sectionals …"

"He got a duet …"

"Same thing. And now he's the quarterback? I mean, what do I have left? Aside from you, I mean."

"You don't have me," she told him sadly. "Remember?"

"Shit. Yeah, I just …"

"It's okay," she repeated. "You don't have to …" She looked down as her pristine white shoes, her ponytail sliding over her shoulder. "I know I messed up and I don't deserve you. But just … just remember when you think that Sam's taken everything from you … he didn't take me."

He stared at her for a moment, wondering exactly why he thought it was a good idea to break up with her. Sure, she had cheated on him. But he had cheated on Quinn. And he hadn't told Quinn. And Rachel had told him.

And he missed her.

He missed her _so much_.

And she was right there, in a Cheerios uniform, telling him that he hadn't lost her.

"Am I dreaming again?" he asked aloud.

"What?" she asked, her brow furrowing slightly and her nose scrunching up cutely.

"Nothing," he responded softly with a small shake of his head before he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.

"Finn," she gasped as she backed away immediately. "We can't. You shouldn't. You ha – you're mad at me."

He was mad at her. And he'd told her that several times since their breakup. And he could agree, tell her he was still mad.

"I miss you," he responded instead.

"I miss you too," she told him quietly.

"Then let me kiss you," he almost begged.

She stared into his eyes and then nodded slowly.

He moved his hands gently to her hips and brought his lips down to meet hers.

He felt like a total girl thinking that it felt like coming home, but it did. Sort of.

She wasn't kissing him like she used to, like it was breathing. She was tentative, gentle, soft. She was a little hesitant.

But it wasn't bad.

It just wasn't all that good.

"I won't walk away at the end of this, Rachel," he found himself telling her. "I want to be with you. For good. For real."

She smiled, then, and launched herself into his arms.

_That_ was more like it.

He felt her tongue slip into his mouth and he almost arched his brow but it was too good, too hot, too _needed_ for him to do anything but rub his tongue against hers and groan out loud.

His hands slid over her hips, his fingers slipping under the hem of her cheerleading top and moving gently over her bare skin. He spread his fingers wide as his right hand hit the small of her back, his pinky dipping below the top of her skirt and his thumb sliding up to the middle of her back.

She was so small.

"Finn," she panted as she pulled back. "We have to stop. The game …"

"They won't even notice we're gone," he whispered in response as he laced his fingers through hers. "Can we go somewhere more … private?"

Rachel looked over her shoulder to where the Cheerios were cheering and then moved her eyes to the field where the teams were still playing. No one was looking at them.

"Okay," she answered as she tugged on his hand and led him towards the locker room.

As soon as he had her alone, he pulled her body tightly against his. "Do you want to …?" he asked, leaving the question open-ended.

"Yes," she responded, much to his disbelief, as she pulled the hair tie from her hair, the dark locks tumbling in curls over her shoulders.

"Yes?" he asked.

She smirked slightly and pushed him down onto one of the benches. "I've wanted this for so long," she admitted as she moved forward and pulled his jersey over his head. "You have no idea."

"Then why …?"

"I was afraid," she admitted as she loosened his pads and removed them as well. "It's just … you're so big and I'm so small. I'm sure your large frame translates to the size of your … your …" she blushed prettily. "I was frightened at exactly how proportional you were. I've heard horror stories where some guys don't, you know, _fit_ … in some girls," she whispered. "I didn't want to disappoint you. And I would never want to get you aroused and then not be able to adequately alleviate your tension."

"It'll be fine," he promised. "We'll make it work."

"I hope I perform up to your expectations," she whispered as she proceeded to pull his white t-shirt over his head, baring his chest to the chill of the empty locker room. "Wow. You're really hot."

"Yeah?" he asked with a grin as his moved his hands to bracket her hips again.

"You're the sexist man I've ever seen before in my life. You're so much more attractive than Jesse and Sam. And especially Noah. You're the hottest guy in Ohio, at least."

"Gee, Rach, thanks," he responded with a smile.

She smiled as well before reaching down to untie his uniform pants. "Since it's so chilly in here, I figured we could leave our pants on. Yours especially so that your bottom doesn't get cold while I'm …" she blushed again.

He nodded and adjusted slightly so she could pull him from his pants. "Okay."

She smiled sweetly at him. "Are you aroused enough? I can use my hand or my mouth if you need more stimulation."

"No," he choked out. "I think I'm good."

"Excellent," she smiled before slipping her hands under her Cheerios skirt and sliding her spanks and underwear down. "Is it okay if I just ride you?"

_Mailman. Mailman. Mailman._ "Sure."

"Okay," she said before she slowly straddled him and sunk onto him.

Without a condom.

"Rachel …" he said with wide eyes.

"It's okay," she told him. "I started taking birth control when we were together so that I could give this to you. I've heard that stimulation is low when using condoms so I wanted you to be able to feel everything."

Who was he to argue with that?

Also? She was so fucking hot and tight that he didn't think he'd be able to stop now if he tried. "Okay," he whispered.

She smiled and brought her lips to hiss, eyes shut tightly, as she slowly moved her body over his.

She felt amazing. He'd used a condom with Santana and she was the only one he'd ever been with. And this was already a billion times better than that.

"Rachel," he whispered.

"Feel me, Finn," she told him breathily as she moved his hands up to her uniform-covered breasts. "Please. Touch me."

"Can I take it off?" he asked. "Please. I know it's cold, baby, but I can make you warm."

"You already make me so hot," she admitted as she grinded her hips down onto him.

He whimpered (not that he would ever admit it to anyway) before unzipping her shirt and pulling it over her head quickly. "You're not wearing a bra …"

"The uniform is tight enough," she explained breathily. "Please, Finn. Please touch me."

He slid one hand to her breast and brought his lips around her unattended nipple.

"Finn!" she cried out as she arched her back and brought her fingers to grip his hair. "That's amazing! Your tongue!"

He chuckled lightly against her. "Should have known you would talk." He thrust up into her, almost roughly, his hand sliding down to tuck into the back of her skirt. "You're so good at this."

"I've done research," she admitted breathily.

Yeah, like _that_ wasn't going to make him hotter.

He gripped her hips tightly before standing (loving it when she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist) and pressing her against the lockers.

Their angle changed and he pushed deeper and she shouted out, loudly, her voice echoing off the empty lockers.

"God, Rachel!" he cried out as he realized he was completely buried inside of her.

"I'm so glad you fit!" she cried out as she arched her back and moved her hips quickly against his.

"Me too," he grunted as he snapped his hips quickly. "This is the best sex ever, Rachel."

"God," she purred as she threw her head back. "I don't think I'll ever have another lover who can compare to you, Finn. Ever. You're such a natural talent."

He smiled widely. Rachel always made him feel so good about himself.

He was pretty psyched that she was letting him have sex with her in the locker room.

"Please, Finn. Harder. Please. I need more. Harder," she cried out.

Hearing her voice so hoarse and needy was all he could handle.

"Rachel!" he cried out as he pushed into her before releasing into her. "Rachel," he continued in a whisper. He repeated her name several times in a breathy whisper.

"Damnit," he heard a deep vice mutter.

"Rachel?" he whispered again.

"That's it, Hudson. You're done," Beiste said as she pulled Finn off the ground.

"What?"

"Second time you've been knocked silly tonight, QB. Go sit down. I want the trainers to look at you again. We might need to get you to the ER."

"But … Rachel …"

"Rachel's fine, dude," Puck said with a scowl. "She's right there."

Finn followed his friend's finger and saw Rachel standing on the sidelines, a heavy scowl on her face, wearing a typical Rachel Berry dress.

Her hair was messy and spilling over her shoulders and her eye black was gone.

She wasn't in a football uniform; she wasn't in a cheerleading outfit.

She was herself.

He thought back to his fantasy about the dominant, football playing, ball busting Rachel. She was hot and take charge and demanding and he loved it.

He thought back to his mental encounter with Cheerio Rachel. She was sweet and nervous and complimentary. She was kind of meek.

And then he let himself look, really look, at Rachel.

Her arms were crossed, she was scowling, and she was shouting at the refs and players like she knew what she was talking about. (She didn't but it was cute to watch her try.)

His mind flashed to her in her football uniform. He was slightly aroused again.

His mind moved to her in the Cheerio uniform. Yup. Boner.

Then he shook his head and looked at her now.

His stomach fluttered so violently that he moved his hand to grip it. His heart started pounding erratically and his breathing became labored.

Yeah. He definitely wasn't over her. The real her.

He hoped that she never changed.

Because he loved her.

Just the way she was.

.**xo**.

So, yeah. It'll be AU in a few hours, but I've been promising my **fildos** forever that I would write it. Hope you all like it. It's not what I planned it to be but, you know, it took over.


End file.
